


The Midnight Crew: Adventures in Relationship Problems

by DarvianDirk



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Droog is sick of your shit, Gen, Homestuck - Freeform, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I actually wrote this at midnight so you know it's authentic, Midnight Crew - Freeform, One Shot, Spades Slick just needs a friend, To Be Continued(?), slick can't figure out girls
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-24
Updated: 2019-02-24
Packaged: 2019-11-04 18:43:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17903495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarvianDirk/pseuds/DarvianDirk
Summary: You know that feeling when your roommate wakes you up at two in the morning because he's sad and horny and has to play with piano to vent?Of course you do, you're Diamonds Droog and you've had it up to here with Slick's shit.





	The Midnight Crew: Adventures in Relationship Problems

**Author's Note:**

> I deserve congratulations. I wrote a Spades/Snowman fic that didn't end with kinky sex.
> 
> For now.

  If there was one thing you couldn't stand, it was that fucking piano.

  You were a classy man.  Dressed to the nines.  Always prepared.  Unshakeable.  To be Diamonds Droog was to be in constant and utter control of every situation you were in, whether that be indirectly through your simultaneous best friend and biggest beneficiary of headaches Spades Slick or through your own poised actions.

  Well, normally.

  Today was somewhat different.

  You were suffering from a delightful mixture of a hangover and a head cold that'd been brewing since last week, it was two in the morning, and Slick was on the goddamned piano again.

  Now, as a musical man, you couldn't deny that the man knew how to play, generally.  Spades was a man of grand strokes and small gestures, perfectly suited to such an instrument.  Tonight, however, you felt lead to put the poor thing out of its misery.  He was pounding on the keys with some unspecified rage that would have been annoying on a good day.  The clattering of keys echoed throughout the base like the bones of the damned.

  Reluctantly, nay, _angrily_  you rose from your bed, tossing on something presentable enough and poking your head out the door.  Spades was playing what sounded like a mixture of 'In the Hall of the Mountain King' and strangling a one-legged cat with an old spaghetti noodle, splaying thin, fine fingers over the keys with a sort of concentrated madness that you would have normally found somewhat admirable.

  "Hey."

  It felt wrong, to shatter the symphony of banging like this.  The piano's screams halted.  He spun around, eye narrowed. 

  "Droog?  Whatcha sneaking up on me for?"  
  
  "It wouldn't be sneaking if you could hear anything above that racket you were making."

  "Racket?"

  "The piano, Slick."

  "Oh."  He blinked, squinting down at the instrument as if it'd appeared beneath him.  "Was I being loud?"

  "Loud enough to wake me up."

  "Sorry."

  It was your turn to stagger in surprise.

  "Are you alright, Slick?"

  "What?  Can't a man apologize without being jumped on?!  Jesus..."

  He stood, not meeting your eyes.

  "What time is it?"

  You glanced out the window.

  "Dunno."

  "You don't know the time?"

  "You destroyed my watch three days ago in a fit of rage."

  "Ah...  Guess that'll do it." he clapped his hands together, seemingly unnerved by the quiet of the house.  "Guess you can...head back to bed.  Whatever you do at night."

  You found yourself lifting an eyebrow.

  "And what are you going to do?"

  "Sit here, I guess."

  "Are you sure you're not sick, Slick?"

  "I'm fine!  Jesus!" he defensively pulled his coat tighter around himself.  "You worry too much."

  You felt as if this were a good time to remain silent.  He stared at the ground, grinding his teeth.  Slick, you figured, was the kind of man who needed to smoke.  He had a sort of nervous energy that would have been much better utilized for something more dignified than whatever he was currently doing.  The nervous tic of the day seemed to be clapping.  He wrung his hands like a widower at a gravesite.  You directed your attention towards the kitchen.

  "Care for a drink?"

  He sighed.

  "Yeah.  Yeah, I think I'd like that.  Fucking hell, I've got a killer headache."

  You grunted.  He winced.

  "You too, huh?"

  You gave a sharp nod, heading towards the kitchen.  He followed, picking at his hat.  You briefly wondered when the last time he'd slept was.  He was started to look...haggard.  Like a fourty-year old mother with a foot in the grave already.  Slick rocked on his feet.

   "Sooo...  You're a pretty smart guy, right?"

  You gave him a look, eyebrow cocked.

  "I'd hope so."

  "Yeah, yeah, obviously...  Well...uh...  Look, point is, Droog, I've got this problem..." he trailed off into nothingness as you offered him a glass.  He didn't even seem to notice that it was water, and not the scotch you were pouring yourself.

  "Problem?" you suggested gently.

  "Yeah...  I've got this dame, right?  Crazy about her, but the issue is that...well..."

  "Sn0wman?"

  "No!  Yes...  Fuck!  Is it that obvious?!" he slumped into the table, burying his face in one hand and gripping his drink with the other.

  "Very."

  "I don't know!  She's got a way of just...existing that I can't...handle?  She's so..."

  "Alluring?"

  "Hot?  Sexy?" he groaned.  "I want her to notice me, but not in a attcky-rip-off-my-arm way, you know?"

  You nodded, topping off your glass.

  "She's Felt."

  "I know!  Fuck!"

  You decided that that was a sentiment that summed up Slick fairly well.  He rubbed his eye.  "Droog, I don't know how to deal with that.  Just...her."

  He looked up at you with big, sad eyes.  You grimaced.   "What do you want me to do about it?"

  He sighed.

  "Good point...  I just..."  He rose.  "I need to sleep.  Think about some things.  Thanks for the scotch."

  You nodded.

  "No problem, Slick."

  He ran a hand through his hair.

  "Well...  Goodnight."

  " 'night."

  He slunk away, fingers dancing around the rim of his hat.  You sighed.

  _So much for a restful night._


End file.
